Except You
by upthenorthmountain
Summary: After Kristoff took the princess back to the castle, it was a long time before he saw her again, and a lot had changed.
1. Prologue

He didn't go to the celebrations for the Royal Wedding. He was very careful to stay away from the city for days before and after; he didn't see a single piece of bunting or a single flower. When people tried to tell him about the food and the dancing, the beautiful bride and her handsome prince, he had turned away.

Because he'd never cared about things like that anyway, right? He'd only been at the coronation to sell ice and the wedding was in October, frost already on the ground. He wasn't needed and he was also quite sure he wasn't wanted, especially not by a woman he'd only known for three days. He wasn't the type to wave flags or drink and dance just because. He had no interest in it all whatsoever.

In the mountains he worked until he could hardly stand, slept, got up and worked again. Tried not to think about blue eyes and red hair and the weight of her in his arms. Tried to forget about things that were never his to think about in the first place.

* * *

><p>He told himself he wasn't going down to the city on the day it ended, either. It was bleak January by then, the air bitter and the cobbles slick. He told himself he wasn't going, right up until he found himself at the edge of the crowd before the scaffold, all watching silently as the rope was dropped round the traitor's neck, as the trapdoor fell away.<p>

And he cursed his height as he was able to see over the heads of the people in front of him, see the two sisters standing over to one side, holding hands like children. See her so pale and drawn, how the last few weeks had broken her. He looked at her for as long as he could bear, then turned and headed back into the mountains.


	2. Chapter 1

He didn't think he'd ever see her again. That was the plan, anyway.

* * *

><p>It was early February, and the snow was thick on the ground. The road out of the city was well packed-down to start with, but as smaller roads and paths split off to farms and hamlets the snow was less disturbed until finally there was only one set of fresh hoofprints ahead of him and Sven, only one other person who had passed this way since last night's snowfall.<p>

Then the hoofprints suddenly veered off to one side and into the trees. Kristoff glanced after them in idle curiosity. There was a white horse with an expensive saddle tied loosely to a branch, and a young woman was sitting on a fallen tree to one side. She had her back to the road but he recognised her nevertheless.

He told himself later that he only stopped the sled because she was crying. Not that it was any of his business, but perhaps she needed assistance (although the obvious thing then would have been to stay on the road - people did occasionally come this way). He couldn't manage to pass her by.

His boots crunched in the snow as he jumped down and she looked up, turning and hastily blowing her nose. Their eyes met and after a long moment Anna said "Oh. It's you."

So many things he wanted to say, and the words that came out were "You can't just sit out here in the snow. You'll freeze to death."

"Maybe I wouldn't mind," she said defiantly, turning her handkerchief over and over in her hands.

"You can't say that," he said, walking over to her. "I know what happened - everyone does - but it's over now."

"You don't know all of it," she said, then blew her nose again, loudly.

He waited but she didn't elaborate. "Come on," he said when she clearly wasn't going to say anything more, "you really can't stay here. I mean it, you'll make yourself ill. Go home."

"I'm not a child," she said, "and you can't tell me what to do. You aren't even my friend. I thought you were but I was wrong." A pause, then quieter, "I'm a terrible judge of character, apparently."

Another long moment, and he didn't know what to say. "If I'd known," he said finally, "I never would have left you there. You know that. And I thought - well. It doesn't matter now."

She looked him up and down, biting her lip. "You got a new hat."

"I - yes. I did."

"I still have the other one. If you want it."

"Keep it. Or - don't, whatever. It's fine."

"Oh." He hadn't noticed she was smiling until her face fell. "I just thought - never mind." She stood, and turned towards her horse.

"You thought what?"

"I thought you could come back with me and get it. Or you could come another day and give me a ride in your new sled? I never even saw it, they just told me you'd collected it. Do you like it?"

And she was smiling at him again, just like that.

"I love it," he said slowly. "Did you choose it?"

"Yes," she said, untying her horse and leading it carefully back to the road. "Let me see it, I'm so glad you like it!"

He followed her back through the trees, listening to her tell him about what the man in the workshop had said, and how many different patterns they could do, and she was sorry it had taken so long to get a message to him about it. As soon as he realised he was smiling he forced himself to stop.

Anna fussed over Sven, and she admired the sled, and Kristoff was pleased enough to offer her a ride back to the castle. Anna was thrilled; he turned the sled around (he had nothing urgent to do, he could spare her some time) and tied her horse so that it could walk alongside.

"I'm not supposed to be riding, anyway," she said offhand as they got underway. "I just needed to get out of there for a bit. A person can only take so many pitying glances, you know?"

"It'll get easier from here on," he said. "Spring soon. New start."

She was twisting her handkerchief in her hands again, backwards and forwards, biting her lip, so he tried to change the subject. "Why aren't you supposed to be riding? Did you hurt yourself?"

She screwed the handkerchief into a ball. "Because I might lose the baby," she said at last, so softly he had to strain to hear her.

It took him a second, then the penny dropped. "You're - oh, god, Anna, I'm sorry."

"You have no manners," she said. "You say, Congratulations! You must be excited! And then you ask if I want to sit down."

"You are sitting down."

"Whatever." She scrubbed at her face with the handkerchief then shoved it down into her pocket. "I like your answer best, actually."

"People have been congratulating you? Seriously?"

"Not lots of people. I mean, it's not official yet, so don't tell anybody. But I think, I don't know. I think _they_ think it's, like, one good thing to come out of this all? Or they just think it's what they're supposed to say."

The city walls were in sight, and Kristoff pulled the sled over by the side of the road.

"Are you all right from here?" he said as he went to help her down.

"I know the way, thank you," she said, brushing him off as she jumped down from the sled, and tried to untie her horse. She couldn't undo the knot with her mittens on, and when he tried to help her, she pushed his hand away irritably. "I'm _fine_." She pulled off her mittens and stowed them under her arm while she undid the knot, then led the horse away from the sled.

"Are you coming to get your hat?"

"I should -" he waved vaguely back down the road.

"OK, well - another time? Saturday, are you free on Saturdays?"

She looked so hopeful, that was the problem. And everything he'd spent six months trying to suppress came flooding back at her smile.

"I'm free on Saturday."

"OK - great! I'll see you here? About ten, is that good? I'll bring your hat and maybe we can go for a drive? I'll bring us some lunch."

He didn't reply immediately and Anna bit her lip, watching his face.

"Fine. Ten. I'll see you then."

She smiled at him and he knew it was the right answer. Making her smile like that was always the right answer. Even if it felt like the wrong one.

* * *

><p><em>I missed you<em>, she wanted to say. _I shouldn't have let you leave._

She wanted to say _I'm sorry. I won't let it happen again._


	3. Chapter 2

Kristoff had multiple arguments with Sven over the next four days.

At first he wasn't going to go. It was stupid; bad enough to rip open old wounds without rubbing an extra handful of salt into them. And she was a princess. And she was carrying the child of a man who'd just been hanged for high treason. A large part of his brain was screaming at him to stay away, it wasn't his business, it was all going to end really badly so best not to get involved.

_She'll be disappointed. Upset._

Fine. He would go, and he would get his old hat because she seemed weirdly obsessed with it, but then he would say goodbye and that would be it.

_All you've thought about for months is Anna and now you can see her again you're not even going to talk to her?_

Just a couple of hours, then, and he'd take her home. He had better ways to waste his time.

_But it sounds like she really needs a friend._

That didn't mean it had to be him.

One day, OK. He would give her one day.

* * *

><p>"Kristoff!"<p>

Her obvious delight on seeing him was like a kick in the chest and all his resolutions evaporated. Anna looked a little pale, but still cheerful and vibrant, and she climbed happily onto the seat next to him as a young man in green put some things in the sled and then stood back.

"What time shall I return to collect you, ma'am?"

"Oh, don't worry about that. Mr Bjorgman will escort me home if necessary."

"If you're sure, ma'am…"

"I am. Um, you're dismissed."

The guardsman saluted and left.

"I'm sorry. I mean, you don't have to take me home, you can leave me here. But I didn't want someone to be standing about waiting for me."

"No problem." Then in a rush, "I'll walk you home if you want."

Anna said nothing, just smiled and looked away.

* * *

><p>"Which way are we going?" Anna asked as the city fell away behind them.<p>

"I don't know, up the main Brekstad road, I guess. Or we could go round the coast road."

"Brekstad is fine."

"OK."

"We can go by the coast road next time."

_Next time,_ he thought, but he didn't say anything.

* * *

><p>"So have you had a good week?" Anna seemed very bright-eyed today but he wasn't sure how much of it was bravado and her relentless need to be optimistic.<p>

"Yeah, I guess. Normal. You?"

She sighed. "I nearly threw up on the Genuan Ambassador."

"Really?"

"And then I _did_ throw up in the rose garden. And Elsa told him I was sick and his wife made a big fuss about how it might be contagious so she had to tell her the truth, which was what she suspected in the first place she just wanted it confirmed, and that woman is an _atrocious_ gossip so the entire diplomatic community will probably know by - well, they probably know already."

"I'm sorry."

"I just feel so bad for Elsa. All the talk about - what happened - was finally starting to settle down and now everyone's gossiping again because I'm an idiot. Well, the whole thing is because I'm an idiot, so I suppose that's not new."

"I don't think you're an idiot."

She looked at him, surprised. "You're just saying that."

"I mean it."

Now she just looked sceptical.

"Okay, all right - cards on the table, OK? Honesty, up front."

"All right."

"I don't think you're an idiot. I think you were naive, and I think sometimes you're too trusting. You always want to see the best in people and someone took advantage of that. But I don't think you're an idiot."

She was silent for a moment, then she said quietly "Thank you."

He could see her beginning to tear up so he said quickly, "I almost don't want to ask what you think of me."

She looked at him, biting her lip. "I think - I like you. I mean, I think we could be friends. If that's OK. If you have time."

"Time to be friends?"

"Do you?"

He wrenched his gaze away from her blue eyes and back to the road.

"I expect so," he said.

"Good! That's good." The briefest of pauses and she was off again. "You probably think I know lots of people but I really don't. We have plenty of visitors but they don't stay long. And I have Elsa of course but she's so busy and she worries about me and I feel bad. But I don't have any _friends_, really. Until now."

She grinned at him, and he smiled back. How easy, to declare that you were someone's friend, and then you were. How simple.

* * *

><p>In the end he did walk her from the gate to the castle, but only because lunch for two people had turned out to be packed into a full-sized wicker hamper that Anna could barely lift. Kristoff handed it over to the guard at the main gate and then only managed to say "Well, goodbye I guess -" before Anna was hugging him.<p>

She stepped back again almost immediately and he refused to analyse his brief surge of disappointment.

"Same time next week?" she said. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear while she waited for his answer and he realised she was nervous; before he could think about it properly he heard himself saying "Sure."

She smiled at him, then suddenly jumped. "Oh! I nearly forgot! Be right back, stay there, don't move -" and she ran into the castle. A few minutes later she returned, waving his old grey hat triumphantly.

"I can't believe I nearly forgot!" she said. "Everyone always says I'd forget my own head if it wasn't screwed on. But here you are." She held it out and he took it. "Thanks."

"They washed it," Anna continued, "but it's been in the bottom of a drawer since. It nearly got thrown away but I found it and kept it. You know. In case I saw you again. And I did! So."

"Why would they wash it then throw it away?" he said, without thinking.

"The laundrymaids washed it," Anna said, then her face clouded. "It was - someone else who wanted me to get rid of it."

All he could think to say was "Oh." Knowing the simple facts of the start and end of her marriage had almost made him forget that there were months in-between - months when they had, of course, lived as husband and wife. He wasn't sure how much more he wanted to know.

"I missed you," Anna said abruptly, interrupting his train of thought.

And before he could answer, she was gone.

* * *

><p>The next week they drove down the coast road.<p>

"So how've you been? Thrown up on anyone important?"

Anna pulled a face. "Can we not talk about it today? I'm trying not to think about the whole - baby thing."

"All right." Pause. "I don't think it'll work as a long-term strategy, though."

"I know! I know. But I'm feeling okay today, so we're going to talk about something else."

"Fine. What?"

Anna paused, looking around.

"I spy with my little eye, something beginning with - T."

"Really?"

"That starts with R, try again."

"Tortoise."

"No."

"Tuba."

"No."

"Tablecloth."

"No. Play properly."

"I'm just trying to put off the inevitable moment where I say 'tree'."

Anna pouted and smacked his arm.

"What? Was it not a tree?"

"Or maybe I don't want to talk to you _at all_."

"Fine."

Almost immediately, "Can I drive for a bit?"

"No!"

"Please? Sven knows the road. I just want to hold the reins. Please?"

"No."

"No one lets me do _anything._"

Anna slumped back in the seat, arms folded and brow drawn. Kristoff glanced at her, and he sighed. She was right; Sven knew the road. And it was a wide road with little traffic, and slightly uphill so they couldn't go too fast. Perfect for a beginner, really.

"All right. I'm going to regret this, but - okay."

"Really?"

"Yeah, sure. But be careful. This sled was a gift from a friend."

And her smile was everything.


	4. Chapter 3

"Did you hear about the princess?"

"Oh yes, yes I did. Poor child. Well, these things happen."

"She was hardly married for five minutes, you'd think she might have escaped it."

"Five minutes is all it takes, if I remember right!"

"That's true enough, Ingrid!"

The two elderly women walked through the gate into the town, cackling. Kristoff scowled after them and stamped his boots against the cold. A light snow had begun to fall, and although he didn't think it would get any worse, he had started to wonder whether Anna was coming.

She arrived fifteen minutes late, full of apologies.

"I'm so sorry, I was ready on time but then Elsa said I couldn't spend all day in the snow, so then we had, well, not a _fight_ but anyway, she said either you can come in to the castle or we can go to yours or something but I can't stay outside all day when it's snowing."

Anna smiled hopefully. "So I was wondering, how far away do you live?"

* * *

><p>Had he always been this much of a soft touch? He didn't think so.<p>

* * *

><p>Anna was trying to catch snowflakes on her mittens as they drove.<p>

"What's it like," she said conversationally, "your house?"

"It's not much," Kristoff replied. "It's just one room and the stable. I never needed to add more."

"Did you build it yourself?"

"Well - yes. Of course."

"That's amazing!" He looked at her sideways, but she was smiling sincerely.

"See it first," he replied. "Then you can decide if it's amazing."

"I didn't know people built houses," she said. "I mean, obviously I knew _people _built _houses_, but like, builders. I didn't know people built their own houses."

"Except builders."

"Right. Oh, look at this one - oh no, it's gone. Are we nearly there, yet?"

* * *

><p>"It's so cosy!"<p>

Through Kristoff's eyes the cabin looked half the size it had that morning, and it had seemed small enough then. _I don't even have any chairs inside, _he thought to himself. _Why did I bring her here when there isn't even anywhere for her to sit except the bed._

Through Anna's eyes, though, it was apparently enchanting, and she flitted about the small room, looking at everything.

"I'll get the fire going," he said. "Make yourself at home. There's a hook behind the door if you want to hang up your things."

Anna took off her hat and mittens, then fiddled with the clasp on her cloak, looking unsure.

"Or keep it on if you're cold."

"It's not that." She hesitated a moment more, then quickly took it off and hung it up, before throwing herself down to sit on the bed, looking at him defiantly as if daring him to comment.

It took him a moment to realise that the dress she was wearing, although in similar colours to the ones she normally wore, was cut very differently - the waist was much higher, belted directly under her breasts.

"You look - well," he said. "I mean - " He turned back to the fire, focussing on getting the room warm. "Shall I make some tea, or…"

"I guess I really can't ignore it any more," she said.

He sat down next to her.

"Maybe I feel worse because I always wanted to have children. And I knew that sometimes a woman _wouldn't_ want to have a baby. I mean, of course, if you're not married - or if you don't have much money or it would be a lot of work, I understood that. Or if you already had enough babies. You know? But I - I was married, so it's respectable. And I'm a princess! Once the baby's born I won't even have to _look_ at it if I don't want to. Other people will do _everything_. So it feels like I don't have anything to be upset about." She hesitated, and oh, how he wished he knew what to say.

"I didn't know it would feel so - _invasive_," she continued. "like my whole body's been taken over. Like this is one last thing that he's done to me."

"Did he - force you?"

"No." Anna laughed, but there were tears behind it. "No, he never had to. I was always more than willing. Which almost feels worse, now."

"He was your husband. You didn't know." For want of anything better to say.

"I know, but I -" she hesitated, and for a moment it looked like she was wrestling with something before she continued - "I think that's the one thing I miss about being married. The love-making." Anna bit her lip but she didn't look up. "And I've been thinking - that if I wanted to - this would be the perfect time to - to take a lover. No risk."

And then she looked at him, from underneath her eyelashes. "What do you think?"

"I -" Was she really asking what he thought she was asking?

"I mean, I don't want a suitor or a husband or anything, but - we could -" and she put her hand on his thigh.

Her hand was warm and she kept her gaze locked on his as she slid it further up his leg, and down -

He leapt to his feet. "Jesus, Anna!"

"I - oh, god, I'm sorry - I'm sorry -" she shrank back, wringing her hands. "What must you think of me - I didn't mean to -" the last words almost a sob as she buried her face in her hands.

"No, it's okay - you just - startled me, that's all."

"Can we just forget I said anything?" Muffled.

"Of course." He sat back down next to her - it was that or stand there next to the door, and he wanted to show that he forgave her. "Are you all right?"

"Yes. I just feel so _stupid_."

"Hey. It's okay. It's forgotten." She was crying properly now, so he put his arm round her gingerly, and she responded by throwing herself against his chest, her arms round his neck. He held her while she cried - he didn't seem to have much choice - and tried to ignore the part of his brain that was telling him he was the biggest idiot in creation.

When she was calm, Anna just turned her head slightly and rested it on his shoulder. "Your shirt's all wet. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." He waited for her to pull away, but she didn't, and he told himself he didn't want to move his arms in case she thought he was cross with her, when in reality he couldn't bring himself to let her go.

Her hand was still on his shoulder, and she let it drift down to his collar and fiddled with the embroidery for a moment. Then, suddenly, as if she'd made a decision and needed to follow through on it before she changed her mind, she fisted her hand in his shirt, pulled him to her, and kissed him full on the lips.

He was surprised, but another part of him wasn't surprised at all; it almost seemed inevitable. He drew her further into his arms, and she kissed him hungrily, insistently, leaving him gasping for air. He pulled back and breathed her name - _Anna_ - and it was supposed to be a warning but instead it sounded more like a moan, and she whispered _please_ and it was too much and not enough all at once. He pressed his lips to hers and he felt her smile briefly before she was tugging at his shirt again, pulling him after her as she moved up the bed, as she lay back against his pillow.

Voices in his head were clamouring that this was a bad, terrible idea, but Anna was determined, and she pulled him along with her like a leaf on the current.

When he'd imagined Anna there in his bed - and he had imagined it, more times than seemed decent - he'd imagined something slow, loving, almost reverential. It wasn't like that. He felt clumsy and fumbling; the bed was narrow, and Anna's clothes were needlessly complicated, and he was terrified of hurting her.

And she was self-conscious about her body, he quickly realised. She undressed, but if she saw him looking at her she distracted him with a kiss or a touch. When he put his hand gently on the slight swell of her stomach she pushed it impatiently aside. He wanted to tell her how beautiful she was but she barely let him draw breath, and he realised later that she was terrified he would change his mind.

* * *

><p>Afterwards Anna dozed off, curled up in the nest of blankets. Kristoff waited until he was sure she was fast asleep, then edged gently out of the bed. He pulled on his clothes and sat on the trunk at the foot of the bed, a sick, guilty feeling settling in his stomach. In sleep, Anna looked smaller, younger. Her bare shoulder was visible over the edge of the blanket. He wanted to kiss it but he didn't know if that was allowed. He had a feeling he'd made a huge mistake.<p> 


	5. Chapter 4

He woke her a couple of hours before sunset. She squinted at him for a moment before smiling lazily.

"Anna, you need to - put your clothes back on. I have to take you home."

"Oh. Oh! Right." She rolled onto her back and stretched, smiling at him. "That was fun."

She hummed to herself while she dressed. Then she saw the expression on his face.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I - is that what that was to you?"

"What?"

"Just -" he waved a hand helplessly.

"I told you what I wanted. What's the big deal?" She snorted. "It isn't as if you _deflowered _me, or anything."

He had to laugh at that.

"What? What's so funny?"

"Anna - Anna, how many girlfriends do you think I've had? Approximately?"

"I don't know, I - oh. _Oh_." She looked at him, horrified, her mouth a perfect circle, and he could feel himself blushing so he grabbed his hat and went to the door. "I'm going to get the sled ready. You need to get dressed."

* * *

><p>She joined him outside a few minutes later and climbed into the sled without saying anything.<p>

The snow had stopped, but, he hoped, the fall meant the road wouldn't be too slushy as they got closer to the town.

"Ready?" he asked her, and she just nodded and mm-hmm'd, her hands folded in her lap.

Silence was fine by him. Silence he could deal with. If only Anna knew how to be silent.

"I couldn't tell, if that's what you're worried about," she announced after they'd gone barely a hundred yards. "It was all, you know, fine. Great."

"I'm not worried."

"Well, good."

They turned onto the main track. The sun had sunk behind the trees, sending long shadows across the road.

"Then why are you being so weird?"

"I'm not being weird."

"You are."

He sighed. "Anna, what do you want from me?"

"I want to know what's wrong."

"That's not what I - never mind. Nothing's wrong."

He expected her to push it but she didn't, just gave him a strange look then settled back on the seat. He frowned at the road; the snow had melted and refrozen in places, just enough to be dangerous, and he needed to be careful while at the same time hopefully being quick enough that he wouldn't be coming home in the dark. Anna opened her mouth to speak a couple of times but didn't say anything. He hoped it was because she was loath to break his concentration but he was grateful for the lack of conversation.

* * *

><p>By the time they were back at the city gate Anna seemed to have made up her mind to be cheerful. Kristoff helped her down and let her cling to his arm as they walked across the icy cobbles.<p>

"Same time next week?" she said as they walked over the bridge.

"Sure."

"And maybe we could - entertain ourselves in a similar fashion?" She grinned at him from under her eyelashes.

So easy to say yes. So easy to say yes and spend his Saturday afternoons in bed with the woman he l-

No. Clamp down on that word, don't even think it.

"I don't think that would be a good idea," he said.

"Why not? Didn't you like it?"

She was still smiling at him, still leaning on his arm despite the late afternoon sun having melted the ice on this side of the causeway.

"I liked it," he replied truthfully.

"So I'll see you next week." She gave his arm one last squeeze and left, looking pleased with herself.

He watched her walk away, and the guards at the castle gate bowed and muttered 'Your Highness,' as she passed, and he asked himself again, for the umpteenth time, what the hell he thought he was doing.

* * *

><p>The problem was that he'd never been able to say no to her.<p>

The problem was that he'd do anything to take away the loneliness that was always hovering in her eyes, the years of neglect that she sometimes hinted at, making jokes and offhand remarks that cut him to the core.

The problem was that he now knew the feel of her lips on his, the smell of her hair, the taste of the soft skin just below her ear. The way she gasped and sighed and moaned his name, her eyes falling shut, her fingernails digging into his shoulders. He couldn't forget it. He didn't want to.

* * *

><p>Next week Anna talked about the weather. She talked about her week, and exclaimed when she saw a hare, and talked to Sven. Kristoff was beginning to think she'd changed her mind, until they were inside the cabin and she immediately fell into his arms, kissing him and drawing him towards the bed.<p>

"I should make a fire," he said, but half-heartedly.

"We'll keep each other warm," she murmured against his neck, and it felt like a dream, a fantasy come true; maybe that was what gave him the confidence to scoop her up in his arms, to lay her on the bed and kiss her the way he had wanted to ever since he first met her.

* * *

><p>"Do you believe in true love?"<p>

Anna was sitting on a low rock near the lake's edge, hugging her knees and looking out over the water.

"Yeah, I think so. Why? Don't you?"

"I used to." She let go of her knees and reached down for a stone, throwing it into the lake with a splash. "Seems like a long time ago, now." Another stone flew after the first. "Not that _that_ was true love."

"But it must have been," Kristoff said. "It saved you. The kiss."

She looked at him, not comprehending. He sighed.

"Anna, when I took you back to the castle last summer you were dying. Next thing I knew, the ice was melting and you were planning your wedding." She winced but he couldn't make himself stop. "If it wasn't true love, why did it work?"

"Because that isn't what happened!" She threw up her arms in exasperation. "How do you not know? I didn't kiss him. I couldn't _find_ him. And then they had Elsa locked up and some men were going to shoot her and I ran in front of the crossbow and I froze? But then I wasn't frozen any more. Because I love _Elsa_. Hans wasn't even _there_. How do you not know that? I thought everyone knew that."

"And I am done with love," she continued. "Romantic love, anyway. I am done with it, through with it, over it. I am never falling in love again. Stop laughing at me."

"I'm not laughing - but you're only eighteen. That's awfully young to be done with anything."

"If one more person," Anna said flatly, "treats me like a child then I'll scream. Or punch them."

"No, that's - that's not what I meant. I just meant - you might live another seventy years! That's a long time. You might marry again, you might not, but you don't know."

"Oh, I expect I'll get _married_." Now she was sorting through the stones, lining them up next to her, making piles. "Might as well."

"…sorry?"

"I don't think I've ruined my prospects entirely, I'm still young, as you said, and everyone's pretty scared of Elsa so there're several places that would like a formal alliance. I guess in a year or two we'll work something out. Not for a while, obviously," and she gestured down at herself. "And I'm technically a widow, of course. Someone the other day told Elsa I should be wearing black and she nearly turned him into an icicle, it was pretty funny, actually." The pile of stones fell over and she scooped up a handful and threw them into the lake after the others.

He shook his head, amazed at the pragmatic way she talked about it.

"You'd have an arranged marriage? Really?"

She looked up, surprised. "Well, marrying for love didn't really work out for me, did it, now. And that's what I'm for, anyway."

"You're a person. You're not _for_ anything."

Anna laughed. "Maybe you aren't. But I get to live in a castle and wear pretty dresses and that's because I'm not a person, I'm a princess, and as such there is one reason why I exist. Well, two reasons. Reason one is in case anything happens to Elsa, I'm her back-up, the spare, so let's all pray she remains in good health or the country's in real trouble. And reason two is so that I can marry well, well for Arendelle, that is, then have lots of babies so that the next generation can do it all over again." A larger stone, a particularly vicious throw, a resounding splash. "It's all right for you. You can do whatever you like, marry who you want."

"What happened to the Anna who would do anything for love?"

For a moment he thought she hadn't heard him. Then she said bitterly "Oh, she learnt her lesson."

Silence while they both watched the water. Kristoff picked through the stones and skimmed one across the lake, making it skip four or five times before it sank. Anna was fascinated and made him show her how to do it, trying over and over until she made a stone skip. He watched her laughing in triumph and was amazed once again at her resilience.

"How do you do that?" he asked.

"What? You just showed me."

"No, I mean - how do you always move forward? Nothing keeps you down for long."

She pulled a face. "Just naturally not very serious, I guess."

"I meant more like optimistic. Brave."

Anna laughed. "I'm not brave. Brave is when you have a choice."

"You have a choice how to react to things."

"Why are you so nice to me?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

Anna took out her handkerchief and blew her nose. "Will you promise me something, though?"

"Of course."

"When you don't want to be friends any more - when you get fed up with me, you'll tell me? Not just, you know. Wait for me to work it out. I hate that."

He gave her a strange look. "I'm not going to get fed up with you."

"You will. Everyone does."

The matter-of-fact way she said it floored him.

"Not your sister."

"She's my sister, that's different. She's stuck with me. You promise?"

"Sure. But it's not going to happen."

She looked sceptical but didn't question it again.

* * *

><p>Spring always came to the mountains all at once, the new grass and the crocuses leaping from the earth seemingly overnight. Normally it would be coming up to the busiest time of year for Kristoff but he contrived to keep his Saturday afternoons free, and they soon slipped into an easy routine - a drive up the mountain, a walk by the lake if the weather was dry, then back to the cabin and to bed. Then Anna would sleep until it was time for him to take her home.<p>

She always fell asleep; he wondered how well she slept in her own bed. She left the pillow smelling of a mixture of soap and sweat and something vaguely floral that he couldn't place until he realised it was the same as his old hat, the one she had kept in her drawer for all those months.

Anna never described him as anything other than her 'friend', and he never pushed for a different definition, telling himself that if she was happy, he was happy. But as spring turned into summer the word started to leave a bitter taste in his mouth.

* * *

><p>"Can I say something really stupid?"<p>

"You don't normally ask permission."

Anna smacked him on the chest. "Rude."

"Sorry. Couldn't help myself. Go on, I'm sure it's not stupid."

Her head was on his bare shoulder as he lay on his back, her breasts and stomach pressed against his side. She fiddled idly with his chest hair as she spoke.

"It's just that - I only thought about it the other day, but I'm going to have to tell the baby. About, you know, everything. Who her father was. What he did. How do you even start that conversation?"

"Her?"

"Yes, it's a girl, I decided. But I mean - what do you say? 'Oh, by the way, when I was eighteen I was a complete idiot and married a man who tried to kill your Aunt Elsa so we had to hang him. But try not to have a complex about it!'"

"I think it's a long time until you have to worry about that," he replied, tucking her hair back behind her ear. She sighed.

"I know. But - this is the stupid part - it's like it's only just hit me that the baby will be a _person_. An actual person who will be a baby, then a child, then an adult. I have to _name_ her, Kristoff, how do you _do _that?"

"I don't think you should name her Kristoff," he said in an attempt to make her laugh, but Anna was too agitated and just said "What?"

"Nothing. Anyway, again, you have plenty of time. Months."

"Only three months."

"Autumn, and it's barely summer." He reached to tuck her hair behind her ear again, and ended up just stroking her hair to try and calm her down.

"It's been summer for a while and September is the _beginning_ of autumn."

"Fine. Name her after your mother."

"As one of her middle names. As a first name it would be too weird."

"One of her middle names? How many middle names do you have?"

"Three."

"Seriously?"

"Mm-hmm." She was getting sleepy now. "My name is Princess Anna Marie Karoline Frederica of Arendelle."

"Pleased to meet you."

She laughed, so softly that he felt it more than heard it, then her eyes were closed and she was asleep. He pulled the blanket further up, over her shoulders, and listened to her breathe.

After a moment she shifted and muttered something that sounded like "quit it" before drifting off to sleep again. He wondered what was poking him in the side and then suddenly realised that he could feel the baby kicking, against his hip. _An actual person_, he thought. _Please, for the sake of everybody, don't be anything like your father._


	6. Chapter 5

He kissed her shoulder and started to sit up, but she held on to his arm and pulled him back. "Stay 'til I'm asleep," she murmured, twining her fingers in his, and he settled back down behind her, holding her warm against his chest until her breathing was slow and even. "I love you," he whispered into her hair, knowing she couldn't hear him. _I love you, Anna._

* * *

><p>"Elsa got a letter," Anna had said abruptly, as they had driven out of the city earlier that afternoon. "I mean, it's addressed to her, but it's for me really. And she hasn't read it and I have."<p>

"You read her letters?"

She gave him a strange look. "What do you think I do all day? I deal with a lot of her correspondence. I guess I wouldn't open anything marked 'personal' but she doesn't get any letters like that. Anyway, this one is from King Gustav."

Kristoff looked blank. Anna sighed. "King Gustav _of the Southern Isles_."

"…oh. What do _they_ want?"

"The baby."

_"What?"_

"Oh, not exactly - he phrased it kind of weird. I can't remember the words he used. But it was more like, they heard about the baby, and understood it wouldn't be as welcome as a baby normally would, blah blah blah, if we didn't want it they would take it and bring it up with all its cousins and things. I guess with twelve uncles and I-don't-know-how-many aunts there must be lots of cousins."

Kristoff snorted. "And they did such a fine job with -"

"I know! I know."

"Sorry."

"It's okay." She pulled a face. "It's weird, if they'd asked back in February or something I would have said sure, take it, I don't want it. But now - it's different."

"I guess I just thought of it as being your baby. Of course it has other family."

"Mmm."

"Why haven't you told your sister?"

Anna sighed. "Because she'll say 'of course it's up to you' and I wanted to think about it first. And now I don't want to reply at all but someone will have to." She folded her hands on her stomach. "Maybe she'd be better off there. A big family, lots of friends. I can only offer one aunt."

"And a mother."

She pulled a face. "I think we both know I'll be terrible at that."

"No we don't." He hesitated. "You can't be worse than mine, anyway. She left me at the orphanage when I was a year old."

"I didn't know you were at the orphanage."

"Until I was seven. Then I ran away, and found Sven."

"And the trolls."

"After a bit, yeah."

She looked at him thoughtfully. "I bet you were a cute baby."

"Yeah, well, my mother obviously didn't think so."

"People have reasons for the things they do." She put her hand on his arm, then scrunched up her nose at him. "You realise I have to keep the baby, now you've said all that."

"Why do you think I told you?"

"You're not fair," she grumbled, but she was smiling.

* * *

><p>It was the next week that everything went wrong. He'd been working non-stop all week on not enough sleep, and it was on that tiredness that he blamed the absent-mindedness that made him lean in to kiss Anna when he met her outside the castle. She jerked backwards, surprised, and he was embarrassed and wrong-footed.<p>

From that point on everything felt awkward. It was a hard reminder of the fact that he still didn't know exactly where he stood, and he found himself second-guessing words and actions that had seemed natural before. When she tried to kiss him on their arrival at his home he finally snapped.

"What do you_ want _from me, Anna?"

"What do you mean?"

She looked genuinely puzzled at his outburst, even slightly scared, and that was it, he'd had enough. None of it seemed worth it any more. He sighed.

"You said that when I didn't want to be your friend any more I should tell you. Well, this is me, telling you. I can't do this any more, Anna. It's killing me."

She looked devastated. "You don't want me any more."

"It's not that -"

"I told you! Everyone gets fed up with me. I'm too - I don't know, I don't even know, I've tried to work out what's wrong with me, but everyone leaves me, everyone -"

"It's not that! For gods' sake!"

Anna stopped, stunned into silence.

"There's nothing wrong with you, Anna. Nothing at all."

"Then why -"

"Nothing at all, and that's the problem. You're beautiful and you're bright and you're funny and you're so enthusiastic, about everything, and you're optimistic and brave, so brave, and you care so much, and I love you. I love you and you don't love me, or you can't or you won't and I can't do this any more, Anna. I can't."

She was still staring at him. "Kristoff." She hesitated, then started again. "You didn't say."

He shook his head. "I'm saying now."

"For how long?" she said.

"How long what?"

"How long have you been in love with me?" Her face was set, hard. He shook his head again.

"I don't know." Hesitant. "A bit over a year, I guess."

"A year. _All this time_, all along - and you knew, you must have known, that the one thing I couldn't _bear_ was to be _lied _to -"

"I never lied to you!"

"Lies of omission are _still lies_!" She was furious now. "I just wanted one person in my life, just _one_, who would tell me the truth from the start!"

"Anna -"

"Everyone thinks that what Hans did to me, what hurt me, was the big lie. But it wasn't. It was all the little lies, all the little ways he acted so I thought he felt one way when he felt another. And all those weeks, _months_, when he gradually couldn't be bothered with the charade any more, when I could feel him slipping away and I thought it was _my_ fault, thought it was something _I'd_done wrong."

Kristoff felt sick. "You're comparing me to him. To _him_ -"

"If the cap fits!"

"And all - this - meant nothing to you? You'd have let anyone in your bed, anyone _friendly_ -"

She was stronger than she looked, and faster - he felt the slap almost before he saw her hand move, and it _stung_.

She looked as shocked as he felt, and they stared at each other for a long moment.

"I'm sorry," he said eventually. "I shouldn't have said that."

"No," she agreed. "And I shouldn't have struck you. But did you honestly think," she continued, "that I don't care? For you? Of course I do. But why didn't you _say_?"

"You said. You said you were never going to fall in love again. I didn't think I had a chance."

Anna looked at him, her eyes searching his face. She seemed to be waiting for something but he didn't know what it was. After a minute she nodded, looking sad, then said quietly "I think I'd like to go home now, please."

* * *

><p>Halfway back to the city he realised that she was crying. She was half-turned away from him in an attempt to keep him from noticing and that was what hurt more than anything. He thought back to last week when everything had seemed so perfect and he hated himself. All he did was make her cry. He should never have got involved in the first place; it would have been better for both of them.<p>

* * *

><p>The next week Anna wasn't there, and a guard brought him the message that she was tired and didn't feel like going out today. And that was okay, he could take a hint. And she probably was tired; he tried to remember when she had said the baby was due but all he could remember was 'September' and it was September already, just about.<p>

The next week she didn't even send a message and he realised how efficiently Anna had organised her life. He had never been beyond the castle gates. He had only ever seen her on Saturdays. He knew where to find her but he didn't know how to go about contacting her. And even if he did, he wouldn't have known what to say. The leaves were starting to turn and summer already seemed a long time ago.

* * *

><p>Anna didn't sleep well at night. The castle, normally so busy and alive, seemed dead and eerie and it brought back every kind of bad memory. She couldn't get comfortable in her bed and it was still so strange to be back here, in the bed she had slept in as a child, her own child shifting and squirming beneath her ribs.<p>

But how much stranger would it be to sleep in that other room, where she had been so happy, so briefly. That was supposed to be her happy ending. But she'd learnt the hard way that you couldn't depend on other people for those. You could only depend on yourself.

Anna lay in her bed and thought about love. How did you recognise it? How could you be sure of it? She was so tired and all she could think about was strong arms, holding her safe and warm, letting her sleep. She needed some sleep and then she could think. She would work everything out.

When she finally slept she dreamt that Kristoff took her back to the castle, but this time Hans was there. She dreamt that she ran to him, to kiss him, to melt the ice that she could feel creeping further into her heart, her blood, her bones. But he laughed at her, deserted her. _Oh Anna, if only there was someone out there who loved you._

And then the dream jumped, as dreams do, and she was on the frozen fjord - alone, the bitter freezing wind whipping the snow into mist, ice under her feet and in the air and in her soul. She had to find him but she couldn't even see him and her voice was ripped from her by the storm. And it _hurt_, the pain spreading through her torso in bursts that left her gasping so she could barely stand. She had to find him so that he could save her. So that she could save herself.

She woke and the room was still dark, the castle silent. The blankets had slipped aside and as she pulled them over herself the pain hit her again, not quite in her heart but lower and across her back, tight and sharp. Then it was over, as suddenly as it had started, and she lay wide-eyed in the darkness, heart pounding, and waited to see if it would happen again. She didn't have to wait long.


	7. Chapter 6

The midwife wrapped the baby in a blanket and put her on Anna's chest. The baby's eyes were dark blue and wide awake and as she looked into them all Anna could think was, oh. It's _you. _How did I not know that it would be you? But of course it is. There's no one else it could have been.

Hello, you.

* * *

><p>He told himself he was going to go and talk to her after she'd had the baby. Then, he thought he should give her some time to recover before intruding.<p>

Then it just all seemed like it was too late and he'd screwed it all up, again. Maybe his timing was just terrible.

_I think you're scared._

"You don't know anything about it. You're a reindeer."

_I know that you're the biggest idiot who ever idioted._

"Be quiet. That isn't even a word."

_You're angry with her because she acted like she loved you but she wouldn't say the words or commit to anything._

"When you put it like that -"

_I wonder what could possibly make her act like that. Almost as if she was wary of something._

Because that was what made it worse, really, that was what made him feel guilty as all hell. He knew how badly she'd been hurt and he'd pushed her anyway, then not even listened properly to her answer.

_(Did you honestly think that I don't care? For you? Of course I do.)_

He WAS the biggest idiot that ever idioted. And he had no idea how to fix it.

* * *

><p>For Princess Anna<p>

PERSONAL

The paper was folded tightly and sealed with a blob of candle wax. She hadn't seen the handwriting before but there was no question who it was from.

It had been nearly two months since she had spoken to him, two months that had been both the longest and the shortest of her life. Kristoff's second disappearance was a dull ache at the edge of everything. She regretted sending him away that first week but she had expected - she didn't know what she had expected him to do. Something. She kept thinking of things he'd said, things she wanted to tell him. On Saturdays she woke up happy and excited before remembering that she wasn't going to see him and then the day seemed empty and pointless.

Except for Asta. She'd supposed that eventually she'd be fond of the baby - she was stuck with it, she might as well try and be fond of it - but she hadn't expected to feel like this. To love her, in a sure, bone-deep way, to want to care for her and be with her and protect her forever. One night - lying in her bed with Asta asleep next to her, watching her tiny face in the moonlight - she thought, _my mother loved ME this much,_ and it nearly left her breathless. Everything was worth it, for Asta.

_Anna, _

_I heard you have your baby girl. You were right (of course). Congratulations. I'm sure she is as beautiful as her mother._

_I wanted to say I'm sorry. You were right, I was not as honest with you as I should have been. And I'm sorry it has taken me this long to write to you. I'm a coward_

_You deserve better_

(and then a lot of crossings-out, scribbled so black she couldn't make out the words)

_I hope your next husband looks after you and treats you as you should be treated. Please don't let Hans ruin your life._

_Give my love to Astrid._

_Kristoff_

For some reason that was what twisted sharp in her heart most of all - he didn't know her daughter's name. They had been so close and yet he only knew the full name that had been in the announcements, didn't know the name that everyone had used since she was a few hours old.

She put the letter down on her desk, and she locked the door, and then she curled up in a ball on the sofa and let herself cry.

* * *

><p><em>Please don't let Hans ruin your life.<em>

She knew what he had meant, but it kept coming at her another way.

_Please don't let Hans ruin your life._

She'd always wanted a family. A husband who would love her as she loved him; a kind and devoted father to her children. If she was too scared to love someone - to let someone love her - how would she ever have that?

_Please don't let Hans ruin your life._

He'd said once that she was brave. Maybe it was time to see how brave she could be.

* * *

><p>The next Saturday she asked for her horse (and promised that she would take it easy, and she wouldn't go far, and she would come home the second she was uncomfortable).<p>

And she did take it easy, because she knew she had a way to go, and she needed to get there and back, and wow, she was out of practice. The route was so familiar it made her heart hurt; that and all the fallen leaves, the mud and slush that left no doubt about the passage of time.

And he was there. He was there, outside, chopping wood methodically and efficiently, adding it to the neat stacks along the outside of the cabin. It was a few minutes before he noticed her at the edge of the clearing, and then she slid down from the saddle and tied up her horse before walking slowly over to him.

"I got your letter," she said. "And I needed to tell you something."

"Okay." He sounded wary, but he couldn't stop his eyes running over her, drinking her in as if he wasn't sure she was real.

"We call her Asta. No one calls her Astrid. I just, I just needed you to know."

Now he looked disappointed. "You came all the way up here just to tell me that."

"It's important."

"Okay."

"I can't have you calling her one thing and everyone else another, it'll confuse her."

"Anna," he said, "I've never even met her." He hefted the axe and half-turned away, looking back at his work.

"You think I can't love you," she said desperately. "You think Hans broke me but he didn't. I can love as well as anybody."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm nineteen," she said. "I might live another seventy years." She looked at him, tears in her eyes. "I want to spend them with you."

He dropped the axe by the block; he stepped forward to take her in his arms, then hesitated, his hands resting lightly on her shoulders.

"I need you to be sure," he said. Anna opened her mouth to speak and he added quickly, "Not for me, for you. Don't do this just because I want it."

"I've learnt my lesson," Anna said firmly.

And he kissed her, tenderly, as if afraid that he would break her. She surged forward into his arms and it felt warm and safe and perfect. It felt like coming home.


	8. Epilogue - Christening

_There must be two hundred people here_, he thinks. _Give or take._

The cathedral is full, that's for sure. The rows have been filled in precise descending order of social status but he, Kristoff Bjorgman of nowhere in particular, has a seat right at the front, next to Princess Anna on the rare occasions during the ceremony that she actually gets to sit down. On his other side are the various nobles who have been selected as godparents (the queen and princess used some esoteric formula to choose them which he makes no pretence of understanding, but they seem decent enough people as far as he can tell).

Anna had been very apologetic about not naming him Asta's godfather, but had explained that since he was going to be her stepfather one day it seemed like overkill (and it was one of the first times she had explicitly stated that she intended to marry him - they have an Understanding but he doesn't know how long it'll be before he dares ask officially). He's happier just watching the ceremony, anyway, without taking part in it.

There are lots of readings, some in a language he can understand and some not. The archbishop drones on. Asta herself is only actually required for a few short intervals and spends most of the rest of the time in the corridor outside with a nursemaid - Anna keeps leaning backwards to see her out of the side door, seemingly oblivious to the fact that the entire congregation is watching her. When the eight-month-old is back in her arms for the actual baptism she holds her so proudly and Kristoff is reminded of when she showed him Asta for the first time. _Look what I did._

Afterwards there is a sort of reception with drinks and canapes. Fortunately for everyone the baby has inherited her mother's extroversion and is quite cheerful about being passed from guest to guest like a parcel. Kristoff happens to be holding her when she's getting sleepy, or maybe she recognises his shoulder as her frequent napping spot; either way he finds a seat in a corner and sits quietly while Asta dozes.

He looks up when he hears the queen asking her sister whether Asta has been taken away for her nap. Anna says no, she doesn't think so, and looks around before spotting Kristoff and smiling at him. Turning back to her sister, she says "No, she's with her Papa."

"He's not her Papa yet."

"He's always been her Papa. And it's true," Anna continued over objections, "because you knew who I meant. And so would she. If she wasn't a baby."

Asta is awake now, blinking and chewing her fist.

"Am I your Papa?" Kristoff asks her, quietly.

She contemplates him for a moment, green eyes grave, then carefully reaches out and pokes him in the eye.


End file.
